


Tears Come From The Heart Not The Brain

by Kaito_Dragneel



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Jesse lives, Jesse needs a hug, Post-Order 66, numbers instead of names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaito_Dragneel/pseuds/Kaito_Dragneel
Summary: Body after body they pulled them from the wreckage. It was only a matter of time until they started to find a survivor. When they found him, ARC-5597 was pinned beneath a large piece of metal, and crying.
Relationships: CT-5597 | Jesse & CT-7567 | Rex
Comments: 16
Kudos: 213





	Tears Come From The Heart Not The Brain

Something was wrong. Something was awfully wrong. His head hurt like hell, his arm was pinned, his body ached, his right leg was fractured, his vision was swimming, but… out of all that, none of those things were what was wrong. _Good soldiers, follow orders. Good soldiers, follow orders. Good soldiers, follow orders-_ or do they follow what’s right? He was confused. A part of him was telling him that he had been wrong, that the jedi _traitor_ was his friend, that she hadn’t _betrayed_ anyone. The other part of him kept repeating that mantra over and over again. It made him confused and angry. Confused by what was happening and angry with himself for not being able to distinguish right from wrong anymore.

ARC-5597 tried to pry his arm out from under the piece of metal, it groaned and creaked at the force, but did not budge. He tried again, but all that he accomplished was putting himself in more pain. A small sound of pain escaped him as he lied back on to the ground, staring up at the broken Venator and the pale grey sky sneaking through the cracks of the broken ceiling. His visor was fogged over for some reason, and it felt so hot and constricting to be in his armor. Maybe the impact of the crash had pushed it into his chest, maybe that’s why it was so hard to breathe. ARC-5597 swallowed heavily as time ticked by. When he felt something slowly fall down his face, he flinched a little, feeling _liquid_ gather around his eyes and pool down his temple. Amber and hazed over eyes blinked slowly in realization at what he was feeling. He was crying. There really _was_ something wrong with him, huh?

He swallowed back a sob as he lay there on the ground, hot tears falling down his face. Why? It didn’t make sense. Why would he be crying? He was unable to kill the two traitors, what was done was done. There was no use in crying over a failed operation. Plus, he was pinned to the ground and most likely going to die. He would have been killed anyway since he was unable to execute the jedi traitor. He knew all this. This was common knowledge. The death of the jedi was held at priority one compared to their lives. He knew that and had no qualms with it. So, why was he crying?

There was the sound of footsteps echoing through the ship. The sound had been going on for a while, the sound of dirt being shoveled following it up. Someone was alive. Someone was moving around the ship. ARC-5597 didn’t know why someone would be digging up dirt. Their objective was to take out the traitors not to dig something up, why would-

_Pip pap_

More tears. Why? _Why? **Why?**_ He swallowed. Confusion, fear, pain, anger, sorrow. Why was he feeling these emotions? It made no _karking_ sense! He was broken. Surely, he was broken! He had to be! There was no other explanation! There was no other explanation for him to ache in such a way. ARC-5597 couldn’t stop the sob this time, reaching up to pull off his helmet in order to breathe. The connection of his helmet broke with a soft hiss. The freezing cold air hit him in the face, hot tears bring a burn of hot and cold don his face as he cried. The sobs wracked his body, the ache getting worse. One word replacing the mantra of _good soldiers follow orders_ in his head. That word being _why_.

“Jesse?”

CT-7567. The traitor. His vod. His Captain. No. Not a Captain. A traitor. He was a _traitor_. He was not his vod. _Vod_? What’s a vod? Jesse? Was that him? No. He was ARC-5597. Not Jesse. He… He was…. More tears fell down his face. He couldn’t… he was tearing himself apart. He couldn’t tell what was right from wrong, what was the truth and what was a lie.

“Oh, Jesse. Oh, ner vod. Hold on, hold on, I’m gonna get you out.” CT-7567’s voice was soft and broken. His hands were gentle and shaky, treating him as if he were something precious. Why? He had tried to kill him. They all had! ARC-5597 made a sound of pain as the metal pinning him to the ground was moved off of him, and those gentle hands moved up to cradle his head. “I’m here Jesse. I’m here. It’s alright.”

Hazed over amber met shiny gold as he met CT-7567’s eyes. There were tears falling down CT-7567’s face too. He could reach up, break the traitor’s neck with his good arm, while he was vulnerable. He didn’t though. He just laid there, crying as CT-7567 held him close, listening to the soft words coming from the traitor’s mouth. They stayed like that for a while, or it felt like a while, and then the jedi showed up. Its’ sabers were at its’ hips, blue eyes full of sadness and…relief it looked like. He could sit up, shoot it with the pistol beside him, complete his mission directive. He didn’t do that either.

“Jesse. Will you let us help you? You’re hurt, your mind has been tampered with.” The jedi’s voice was small, concerned, hopeful… feminine. It wasn’t anything like he thought it would be. It wasn’t manipulative or seeking to cause chaos or destruction like most traitors. It was just concerned. “Jesse?”

Jesse. That designation. That _name_. It was him, wasn’t it. The jedi said something was wrong with him. That someone had tampered with his brain. Was that why he was tearing himself apart? It made sense. It made sense that something was wrong with him, and that’s why he couldn’t establish what was right or wrong. ARC-5597… _Jesse_ reached up with his good hand, reaching for the jedi. The jedi grabbed his hand, sadness curling at its’ features. More tears fell.

“Help,” he voiced softly.

And just like that. They did. CT-7567, who he would learn to call Rex, pulled him from the wreckage, and cradled him close even though he was heavy with his armor on. The jedi, who he would learn to call Ahsoka, put his broken arm in a sling and patched him up the best _she_ could. They piled him into their small ship, armor and all, and then went back to burying the dead. That’s what the dirt noise was from. They were burying the ones who had tried to kill them. He didn’t understand it, but… he respected it.

Body after body they pulled them from the wreckage. It was only a matter of time until they found a survivor. That survivor was him. ARC-5597, Lieutenant Jesse of the 501st and the 332nd.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a fix-it, since no one appears to be writing any I shall!


End file.
